


Cracking

by scioubeez



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Universe, Don't question it, Is that a thing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smoking, cigarette play, no really there's literally no plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:01:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26900095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scioubeez/pseuds/scioubeez
Summary: “What a good soldier,” snorts Porco, and Reiner sighs, his choice of words particularly irritating- he knows he's doing it on purpose, though he can't complain, can he- “then I take it back. You should've fucked off.”(In which Porco is an occasional smoker and Reiner is fascinated, to say the least)
Relationships: Reiner Braun/Porco Galliard
Comments: 4
Kudos: 75





	Cracking

**Author's Note:**

> heads up for slight manga spoilers

Galliard's lighter is the only source of heat in the room, and Reiner's gaze is drawn to its flame immediately.

His knuckles are red as he cups both hands around his cigarette, lighting it as an afterthought, turning the lighter off and letting it slip in the back pocket of his trousers. Reiner muses to himself that if it were anyone else he'd be annoyed by it, but if it's Galliard who is smoking, then everything's fine.

He doesn't do it often, though it does look like it. There's experience and muscle memory in the way he holds the cigarette, how he can talk properly holding it between his lips, how he's able to talk a fair bit before exhaling: Reiner can't help but stare at such an unfamiliar habit, equally fascinated and worried by it.

“Do you mind?” he asks, a puff of smoke coming out of his mouth, legs spread as he sits on Reiner's bed with his boots digging into the mattress, leaning back against the wall. Reiner shrugs, throwing a distracted glance at the report currently sitting on his desk, still untouched.

Ever since the attack on Liberio Galliard's behaviour started to change towards him in some ways, but this is something else entirely. He'd never set foot in Reiner's room before, not once, and now he walks in like he owns it, sitting on his bed and all, even going as far as smoking and not even bothering to open a window. It's freezing outside, so it makes sense... but there's something off about Galliard, like he doesn't really want to be here. Like he just walked in without a plan and must now make things up as he goes.

“So... did you need something?” tries Reiner, still standing in the middle of the room like a complete idiot. Galliard shrugs, toying around with his cigarette as he taps it, ash floating gently in the small plate Reiner's given him for lack of an actual ashtray.

“I wanted to see how you were doing, that's all,” he concedes, though there's a tinge of uncertainty in his voice that can't make it past Reiner.

“Did Pieck tell you to come here and do whatever it is she wants you to?” tries again Reiner, though the smallest smirk escapes on his lips, and Galliard notices: he glares for a split second, then snorts, patting his free hand down on the bed.

“Come and sit on your bed, you look like an arse just standing there.”

Reiner offers him a slightly more convinced hint of a smile, and does as he's told: the bed creaks under their weight, and he clears his throat as it squeaks uncomfortably, eliciting another snort from Galliard, though this time there's smoke coming out of his nostrils, too. Reiner wonders how he does that.

“She did tell me to come here and show some good manners, yeah,” he cracks, eventually, taking a drag on his cigarette to allow himself more time to think, all while Reiner openly stares, unable to tear his gaze away from Galliard's lips and the way they close around the cigarette. “So I came here to thank you.”

“Forget about it,” is Reiner's immediate reply, “it's our duty, to look out for each other... isn't it?”

The heel of Galliard's boot smacks Reiner's knee, and he grunts, throwing a confused glance right into Galliard's eyes, who in turn stares at him with amusement clear on his features. “Don't act like you're not enjoying it.”

“Enjoying what,” he says, glare morphing into a heavy-lidded glance at Galliard- at Porco's lips as his cheeks hollow around the cigarette. “I'm not accepting your thanks for having done my duty.”

“What a good soldier,” snorts Porco, and Reiner sighs, his choice of words particularly irritating- he knows he's doing it on purpose, though he can't complain, can he- “then I take it back. You should've fucked off.”

“I think I'll do that next time then,” bites back Reiner, earning a short, rough _heh_ from Porco. He's been staring at the tip of his cigarette for maybe too long, now, and Reiner wonders what he's thinking about.

“...I want to try something,” he murmurs, then puts the cigarette back between his lips as he stands up on his knees, turning around and sitting right on Reiner's lap, his thighs fitting snugly around Reiner's hips as he sucks in a sharp breath, Porco towering over him as he takes the cigarette out with a slight _pop_ of his lips.

There are no more boundaries: maybe there's never been one in the first place. Porco's free hand rakes through Reiner's hair, reaching all the way back at his nape, tugging at the shorter hair there and forcing Reiner to throw his head back. Porco watches him with half-lidded eyes as he holds his cigarette closer to Reiner's jaw, lips parted, and Reiner's heart starts beating faster.

“Have you ever tried?” he murmurs, the corner of his mouth twitching in the cigarette's direction, and Reiner shakes his head.

“Never,” he rasps, eliciting a soft hum in answer from the back of Porco's throat. Without a warning, he presses the tip of the cigarette, still lit, on the side of Reiner's neck: it lasts a whole second, and it's painful, as Reiner grits his teeth and moans, distress clear on how tight he's now holding on Porco's jacket.

Reiner moans again as the tip of the cigarette leaves his skin, steam forming around the small burn already as the whole expanse of his neck tingles pleasantly, a lone drop of sweat rolling down his cheekbone. Porco puts the cigarette out in the small plate, fast, then grabs the front of Reiner's shirt with both hands as their lips collide with force, no breathing room allowed.

The bed creaks, again, as Reiner's back hits the center of the mattress; it squeaks louder when they take turns at pinning each other down, and it thumps loud and fast against the wall as Reiner braces himself on the headboard, his moans longer, rougher, drawn out to the limit as Porco sets the relentless pace he rides him at.

“ _Fuck_ ,” moans Porco as he writhes on Reiner, back arching and a few strands of hair falling down on his forehead: “fuck,” he pants, again, riding it out with scrunched up eyebrows, as if he were correcting himself.

“We just did,” pants Reiner, wincing as he slides out, coughing out a weak laugh as Porco does the same.

“Shut up,” he snorts, though there's no bite in his words as he flops down on Reiner, groaning on impact. “You smell like shit.”

“You're very talkative today,” retorts Reiner, unable to hide a little smile as Porco sits back up as if he was catching fire, throwing an arm behind him to fetch his shirt.

“It'll never happen again so enjoy it while it lasts,” he grunts as he slides off the bed and starts getting dressed, though his gaze wanders all over Reiner's body for perhaps longer than necessary.

**Author's Note:**

> and this [gestures vaguely] is what happens when you see one too many fanart of porco smoking


End file.
